This has become a life of two parts: Increasingly successful physical accomplishments, and continued "managed" misery from all the ruin that has been done to my body. The doctors just have no idea what it's like day-to-day. They only have a checklist with two columns: Dead, Not-Dead.
In between nausea days, easy trail running distances of up to a half-marathon are now routine. Today's micro-adventure was the longest since this ordeal began nearly two years ago, a 16-mile traverse of the Schonchin Wilderness in Lava Beds National Monument. Remote, rugged. Right on the western edge of the Great Basin Desert, up against the beginnings of the Cascades. Zero humans. Silence. Home.
These places offer enormous space and peace to think about anything you want, like how the world is currently (and rightly) enthralled with fabulous Olympic athletes, many of whom will be funded by corporate sponsors. Yet... who is sponsoring the folks trying their every moment to inspire others recovering from the most daunting circumstances, who climb mountains, run deserts, and try to inspire others without the benefit of trainers and great genetics, the people who spend their own money at REI and Patagonia??
These are my heroes, and they are invisible. Maybe I should change that.
In the meantime, I'm right where I am supposed to be.